


Nameless here for evermore

by Peachyboyy



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author has no beta, Edgar Allan Poe References, Fuck poetry, Game: Editor Wilbur Soot ARG, Happy TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, IRL Fic, Im tired, Inspired by Poetry, Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, No Beta, Sleep Deprived TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Soft TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), The Author Regrets Nothing, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29916327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachyboyy/pseuds/Peachyboyy
Summary: He knows that it’s embarrassing, which is exactly why he hasn’t told anyone. How is he supposed to even say something like that?“Hey Wilbur, I know I’m just a weird kid with rabies you found in a block game, but I actually use a shitty recording of you reading some old man’s poetry to fall asleep”?-Or: I gave Tommy the cure to insomnia.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 1
Kudos: 155





	Nameless here for evermore

**Author's Note:**

> SUP BITCHES B) 
> 
> hi hello im sorry for calling you all bitches
> 
> anyways yes inspired by: myself and my own sleeplessness wow i’m so swag and cool
> 
> i didn’t proofread this so tell me if there’s any problems please

It wasn’t that Tommy wasn’t exhausted. It was hard not to be, in his line of work, in all honesty. While editing, Tommy’s body had cramped from sitting for too long, and his eyes burnt from staring at his screen. He had nearly passed out onto his keyboard before saving himself. 

He made the executive business decision to go to sleep. It should’ve been easy. His limbs were heavy, and he felt the familiar ache of growing pains, which usually let him slip into sleep earlier. They didn’t. 

He wasn’t supposed to be like that. He was usually in bed by 11, sometimes 12, because of a stream. He wasn’t supposed to have retained his insomniac tendencies from when he and Tubbo were grinding out content in the summer, left and right. He was supposed to be the one with a normal sleep schedule, but alas. 

If Tommy hadn’t had the same problems on those summer nights, he might not’ve known how to get himself to sleep. He may have been clueless on how to dull his quiet mind. He wish he still were. 

His sleep ritual was never mentioned. He told part of it to Tubbo, once, and immediately realized that even the non embarrassing part would lead to him being teased.

It was embarrassing, and Tommy would probably tease someone else over it, if he knew. A nightlight? Understandable. A fan, or rain noises? Completely valid. What Tommy did? Humiliating. 

He hated that he knew exactly how to get himself to sleep. 

After laying awake in his bed for twenty long minutes, Tommy hesitantly reached towards his phone, which rested quietly on his nightstand. He unplugged it, grabbed his airpods with his extra fingers, and brought them close to his chest. 

Every move he made felt like digging himself into a hole. 

He connected his airpods and unlocked his phone.

His mind was fuzzy, and yet through the fog of exhaustion he was bullying himself. 

He clicked onto youtube. He didn’t have to type the whole video’s name in anymore. It was such a habit, that he only needed four letters. 

God, he was such a weirdo.

Thank fuck for youtube premium; he didn’t get ads, and could turn his phone off while still hearing the video. 

_“Once upon a midnight dreary,”_

Self deprecating thoughts drifted away, as he began to fall back into the shallow area of sweet numbness that was sleep. He didn’t even know if it was the video anymore; perhaps it had morphed into something Pavlovian. 

_“while I pondered, weak and weary,”_

Tommy no longer cared. Humility had been taken with the shred of awareness that left him only a bit earlier. 

_“Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—“_

Wilbur’s voice was comforting. Tommy didn’t recall when, exactly, he had discovered his dub of the poem, but he remembered that he was far from the first to have found it. 

_“While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,”_

He hadn’t ever admitted that he had followed- and somewhat participated in- the uncovering of Wilbur’s ARG, but he had. The poem was something Tommy hadn’t snagged from the discord, and had elected to find himself. He was proud. 

_“As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.”_

When he had started communicating with Wilbur, his sleep habit had been far from the front of his mind. As time went on, however, Tommy wondered whether he found the poem more comforting or creepy, because of his newfound friendship. 

_“‘‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered,”_

He didn’t have the brain capacity to worry about that. His mind was slowly shutting down. Despite its mania, and the crackling of the microphone, Wilbur’s voice was comforting in his ears. 

_“‘tapping at my chamber door—‘“_

He no longer felt the ache of his body or the burn of his eyes. The itch of his hair on his forehead was nonexistent. His mind was settled. He was warm. 

_“‘Only this, and nothing more.’”_

Tommy was asleep by the fourth stanza.

**Author's Note:**

> i’m sorry for not updating my other fic before doing this it’s just that i suffer from butnout in literally whatever i do


End file.
